


I'll be the king of me always; Do what I want, I'll have it my way

by CalmedByTheStorm



Series: Are we fading lovers? We keep wasting colors [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Captian Kenny, F/M, Gen, M/M, almost happy Kenny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:10:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmedByTheStorm/pseuds/CalmedByTheStorm
Summary: He goes back to Vegas in the fall on a mission to make it something permanent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Canon typical mentions of underage drinking, homophobia, and drug use.

_**New York Times July 15, 2010** _

_**The Las Vegas Aces may be a continent away from New York, but their new captain has deep roots to this city. I meet with Kent Parson at Schurz Park on E. 86th street. His childhood apartment is merely a stone’s throw (or should I say a puck’s throw?) from where we settle while his older sister sits a couple benches away, finishing up coursework for one of her classes. He looks comfortable: jeans, faded Aces tee-shirt, and a Samwell snapback containing his Twitter-famous cowlick.** _

_**NYT: So this is where you learned to play hockey?** _

_**KP: Kinda, we live down the street and my mom would bring us here when we were done school. I started playing street hockey one day, ice skated that winter, and apparently wouldn’t shut up about it until my mom signed me up for lessons.** _

_**NYT: You had a pretty good first year in the NHL?** _

_**KP: Yeah, (he laughs and rubs the back of his neck nervously) The Aces are an amazing team and an even better group of guys. I couldn’t have asked for a better team.** _

_**NYT: Being the youngest captain in a while, how do think other teams will treat you on the ice?** _

_**KP: Well, I’m a lover and not a fighter.** _ **(He laughs and grins at his sister, who in turn commented “Oh my God Kent, seriously?”)** _**I bet her five bucks I could work that phrase in naturally. But I can take what people have to say and I’ve learned that if you play well, they’ll respect you for that.** _

_**NYT: I know I’ve just missed your birthday. Did you do anything special?** _

_**KP: Well, my mom had to work the overnight at the hospital, so Kat and I just watched the fireworks from here actually. Neither of us really wanted to travel out to Long Island so it worked out. I’ve been told to expect a big party when I return to Vegas though.** _

_**NYT: Is Vegas your home, or New York?** _

_**KP: New York will always be home for me. My mom was actually born in Berlin in the 60’s. Luckily my grandparents were able to get out of there and come stateside. They moved in about two blocks from here and attended church every Sunday on 84th and First. My mom later met my dad while she was at NYU, and we’re still here. She always wanted a big house, so being able to buy her one out in Garden City was the easiest money I’ve ever spent.** _

_**NYT: But you still have the apartment down the street?** _

_**KP: Yeah. Kat hates Long Island, so I spent my off season here, and it gives her a quiet place in between semesters.** _

_**NYT: You and your sister are close?** _

_**KP: The closest. She’s about ten months older than me; Catholics, y’know? He laughs and explains. Granted, I was born six weeks early. So we’re close in age but also close in everything. We shared a bed until I was ten.** _

_**NYT: Far cry from your life now would you say?** _

_**KP: The separate bedrooms are nice, but we’re still unbelievably close. She’s the smartest student athlete you’ll ever meet, y’know? She’s always been smarter than me.** _ **He laughs at that.** _**I think I’m caught in the middle currently. Part of me thinks I’ve always been heading to where I am now, and another part of me is still stunned I get to do this. Playing the Rangers will always throw me for a loop. Late last season, I was a healthy scratch against our game against the Rangers, and no lie there’s a gif of me cheering when the Rangers had a goal. Old habits die hard, I guess.** _

_**NYT: Do you have any regrets from your childhood?** _

_**KP: This isn’t a regret, but um… He pauses to readjust his hat. My dad died in Afghanistan when I was still pretty young. I was thirteen, Kat was fourteen. I think I'd like him to see where I am now.** _

_**NYT: I’m sure he would be proud.** _

_**KP: Thank you.** _

_**NYT: Is there anything you would change about the city?** _

_**KP: Yes! A second avenue subway. I had to walk all the way to Lexington from here with all my hockey gear every day as a kid. It's a miracle I survived to today.** _ **Kent’s sister, Katerina, laughs and comments, “I helped you carry them all the time, plus my own goalie equipment. Stop being dramatic.”**

_**NYT: What’s your favorite thing about being back in New York City?** _

_**KP: It’s cliche, but everyone comes here to achieve their dreams, you can almost feel it in the streets. Plus coming back is nice and a good reality check. No one in this neighborhood cares who I am, besides little Kenny. The cafe that Kat worked at all through high school has a drink named after me; it’s weird, but this is just... home.** _

* * *

He goes back to Vegas in the fall on a mission to make it something permanent.

He gets a cat. She’s this matted kitten in the back of the shelter. She hates everyone around her, except for Kent. Her instagram has more followers than he does. He gets that.

He buys a house, one big enough for Kat to bring over every girl on her field hockey team, and still have room left over.

His mom meets a guy.

Scott’s nice―almost too nice; like he’s hiding something. Kat spends her last week before pre-season at their mom’s new place in Long Island, but ends up taking a red eye one night to Vegas. He picks her up at the airport and when she hugs him just a little too tight and a little too long, he asks why.

She mumbles in his ear, “Just know I’ll love you no matter who you love, Kenny, okay? Always know that.”

* * *

 

_Being gay and Catholic is almost a cliche at this point, but here he is proud of where he came from but constantly struggling with who he wants to be._

_ His current problem is that the one person he currently wants to be with, is across the continent, in a different country, and refusing to acknowledge his existence.  _

_ He needs to move on.  _

* * *

 

For his birthday, his mom gives him his father’s dog tags from the war. All it does is make him long for the father Bob Zimmermann would have been. 

* * *

 

A lot happens in his second season. The first is Kent makes an actual friend. 

It’s not that he’s not friends with his team―he’s their captain. He knows what rookies are taking some time to adjust to the NHL, he knows who’s having girlfriend trouble, and when everyone’s birthdays are. 

He leads by example, but his team knows exactly when they aren’t meeting his expectations.

That year, they trade Windley for a young 6’4” D-Man out of Toronto. Dimitri Kaleti is a lot of things: he’s Russian, he’s observant, and he’s also protective as hell. 

* * *

 

A second season in the league and Owen Grant is still a dick.

This year, though, when he slams Kent into the boards for the fourth time that night, Kaleti skates over. 

“Is there a history there, Cap?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Whatever you say, Parse.” He bumps into him slightly, “This team has your back.” 

It’s in the third period that it all goes to hell. 

Grant knocks into him at full speed, knocking the wind so thoroughly out of Kent that he drops to his knees on the ice.

“I can see why Zimmermann turned for you―the sight of you on your knees is pretty sweet, Kenny.” 

Kent pushes himself back onto his skates and gets so close to the other player that he can see Grant’s breath fogging up his face mask. 

“I mean, your ass can’t have been good enough to save Zimms from cocaine―I mean your team hasn’t won a cup? Zimmermann’s win.”

Kent’s hands are on Grant’s neck as soon as the final word escapes from behind his mouthguard. Blood red is the only thing he can see as his right hand collides with Grant’s jaw, sending the other player’s helmet sailing onto the ice.

Grant recovers and, known for giving as good as he gets, his knuckles connect with Kent’s left eye. 

Kent gets knocked back toward the boards slightly and Owen spits out,  “Who would’ve thought? The next big things liked sucking each others cocks.”  

He’s too stunned to move this time, but the thing is? Kaleti’s not. 

He watches as the Russian grips Grant’s neck, yanking him away from Kent, and proceeds to let the other player’s jaw get well acquainted with his fist. 

Before Kaleti skates towards the penalty box, he goes eye to eye to Kent. “No one heard anything, you’re safe here.”

The game ends on a goal by Thor, but no one’s celebrating. 

* * *

 

Kat’s in town because she knows Owen Grant’s a dick and makes sure she’s at any game they play because Kat plays Division 1 field hockey, made a couple enemies of her own, and knows a bully when she sees one. 

She runs into the locker room as soon as the third period ends. Kent’s barely out of his gear before he has a face full of blonde hair.

“Hey, hey―I’m okay. I’m right here,” he says. “Bullies will be bullies. Da?”

“I hate him, Kenny”

“A lot of people do, Kat.”

“Don’t make light of this.”

“Alright, alright.” He hugs her just a bit closer.

Kaleti comes over, a bruise forming on his face, and has about three seconds to shuck his gear before he nearly gets tackled by Kat.

They’re speaking Russian―of course they are―because somewhere in the middle of being a double major and the starting goalie for her hockey team, she had time to learn Russian. He’s nodding as she’s mumbling into his under armor. 

“Hey Kaleti!” Kent shouts. “I think you’ve been adopted!” 

 

* * *

 

Dimitri comes over with a six pack of beer. Kat kisses them both on the cheek and heads upstairs.  

Here’s the thing with Kat. She is the only thing on this earth that he would kill for. His entire team knows that she is so beyond off limits, he would almost rather someone date his mother than date Kat.

Growing up they were always told how much trouble their looks would get them in.

For a while, they were all each other had in the world. Then he left for the Q and she was left alone to pick up the pieces. But Kat could also carry herself, and she’s more than pulled her weight in their family. While Kent was in the Q, Kat was making her own records playing goalie for the league(?) down the street from their Manhattan apartment and getting a full ride to Samwell, months before Kent even knew he was a top prospect for the draft.

In three years in the NCAA, she had two titles. Kent was stunned people thought he was the more successful sibling.

With their dad dead and their mother drifting further and further into suburbia, Kat was the one making trips to Vegas as much as she could, because she saw what no one else did: that Kent was lonely.

Kent’s pulled out of his thoughts by Kaleti handing him a beer. “You have nice house, yes?”

“Uh… yeah thanks man. Figured I’d settle in.”

They both relax on the couch. Watching SportsCenter highlights quietly until Kaleti breaks the silence with, “You know I do not mind.”

Kent freezes. “Mind what?”

“If you like boys. Grant seems to mind―I do not.”

“Oh I-I― uh don’t.” 

“You do not have to lie to me. Secret is safe.” 

Kent looks over at him. Kaleti brings his beer up to his lips and keeps watching TV. 

“I just want to play hockey,” Kent says almost inaudibly.

“And you are. Very good, too.” 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“Anything for a friend.” Kaleti looks over and smiles at Kent. If Kent's crying, he's glad Kaleti has the kindness to not mention it.

* * *

 

Kat has to fly out early the next morning, so Kent drops her off at the airport on his way into practice. Dima’s curled up in the back seat, snoring softly. She kisses Kent on the cheek and tells them both to look out for each other. Dima mumbles from the back seat and Kent laughs. 

Owen Grant is still a dick, but Kent Parson has friends and he has family, so he’ll be okay.

* * *

 

**@KVP90: hey ladies! Sorry to disappoint but @DimaKaleti snores way too loud for human companion.**

**@DimaKaleti: @KVP90 be nice or I'll tell the world how much you talk to your cat.**

Kent hits a groove. He plays well, his team plays well and they're winning.

Kent and Dima become inseparable. Their off-ice chemistry moves on to the ice. Dima gets the puck out of danger and into the Kent’s waiting stick. It's magic and it works. 

Dima spends time at Kent’s house, trying to make Kit like him, watching shitty movies, and forcing Kent to stick to their diet plan.  Kent never had many friends, but he thinks he can get used to this. 

Kent calls his sister one night after a game. It's 3 in the morning for him, but she's just starting her day. 

“Kenny, please forgive me for sleeping instead of watching your game.” 

“Kat.” He responds blankly. 

“Kent.” 

“I think I'm happy. I think I'm getting there and I think I can be happy.” 

“Kent, are you drunk?” 

“Yes, but it's okay because Dima is buying them for me so I won't get into trouble.” 

“You're still underage drinking. I'm proud.” 

“Katerina Mildred Parson, you should know―” 

“Kenny, go have fun.” 

“You're my favorite sister.” 

“Win a Stanley cup and you'll be my favorite brother.”

* * *

 

In June, they play the Bruins for the Stanley Cup. His mom and sister are there. His mom's boyfriend is unfortunately there and so are two thirds of the Zimmermann’s. 

It's a hard fought series, with them returning to Las Vegas for Game 7. Kent sits quietly taping his stick. Dima comes over and grips his shoulder tightly, yanking the shorter man out of his thoughts, and makes Kent look him in the eye. 

“We’re winning tonight, Cap. This ends tonight.” 

They fight like hell. He's pretty sure he has a broken shoulder, and a couple of knuckles. Dima probably broke his hand punching Chara in the face. But when it loosens up the puck and gets sent up to Kent, none of that matters. 

He's been here before: Kent, puck, goal. A series of wondrous synapses he could never fully explain. There's time left on the clock, but they're tied. Kent skates as quick as he can around the defenders and, with what feels like a simple flick of his wrist, he pushes the puck past the goalie and into the net. 

They win 5-3 on an empty net goal by Thor. When the clocks winds down, Kent’s on the ice and is promptly being picked up by Thor. They celebrate like hell and when it's time for Kent to lift the Cup, he doesn't once think about lifting it with Jack. This moment is his. 

He passes the Cup over to Thor and meets his family. His mother is sobbing and Kat just jumps into his arms. “Best brother, little brother.” Scott shakes his hand because he's a dick, and the Zimmermann's approach. Alicia hugs him tight and Bob hugs him too. “You did good, kid,” Bob says, “You did real good.” 

Kent gets swept away by his team for a moment and Kat takes in the moment around her. Bob walks over to her and puts an arm on her shoulder. “You should be real proud of your brother.” 

She laughs a little at that, because she'd be proud of him no matter what. “Mr. Zimmermann, you have to know just how much your opinion means to Kent. Not just in hockey, but in life.” 

Bob looks down at her with gentle brown eyes.

“I wanted to make sure you know, because if you told Kent to give up hockey tomorrow, he would. If you told Kent he should try his hand at the MLB, he'd listen to you. Very few people can actually make Kent listen. I just… I just wanted you to know how much your opinion means to Kent, and how thankful I am for that.” 

‘Bad’ Bob Zimmermann has never cried after winning the Stanley Cup, but at this ceremony he might. 

Kat skates off to hug Dima and to give her congratulations to the rest of the team. Bob Zimmermann can't do anything but watch, because it's Kent’s moment now. He puts his arm around Alicia and pulls her close. Because maybe their son needs time, but he's proud to celebrate with Kent today.

* * *

 

The team all goes out to celebrate that night. Kent bounces around to each of his teammates, celebrating with each of them. He may be Kent Parson, the Next Big Thing, but hockey is a team sport and his team earned this. He even gets emotional with Clark Wild, another kid who started with nothing and now has everything. Kat’s there, charming everyone one of them fully. It’s at the end of the night, just as things are winding down, that all hell breaks loose. 

Kat had secured Kent’s phone from him for the evening, documenting the celebration for him. He steals it back from her around three in the morning. There’s close to a zillion text notifications, but only one makes him freeze. 

_ From:Zimms _

_ Congrats, Kenny. _

Two years of silence and this is what he gets. It's only at his best that Zimms wants him?

He shoves the phone in Kat’s face. “He texted me,” he drunkenly whispered. “He saw I won.”

Kat looks down on him with a sad face, “Yeah, Kenny, he did. A lot of people did.”

“Do you think he’ll come play hockey with me?”

Kat catches Dima’s eye and flags him over with an urgent but subtle tilt of her head in her brother’s direction. The Russian bounds over and throws an arm over Kent’s shoulder which sufficiently distracts his captain. “You're so great Dima―such a good friend. You shouldn't be nice to me.”

“Come on, Kenny, let's go home.” 

Over his head, he hears Dima ask Kat how much he drank. He leans his head on her shoulder. “Don't make me go to Long Island, Kat. My [mom] doesn't want me anymore.” 

“Christ, Kent.” She pulls him out of Dima’s arms and into her own. She's warm. “Kenny, I hope to God you only remember the good parts of tonight. I love you so much and just fuck everyone else, okay? Fuck Dad, and fuck Mom sometimes, and really fuck Scott. Okay? We’ll keep Dima. And Thor. And Länger―Okay? But fuck everyone else. Fuck Jack Zimmermann. You're Kent fucking Parson and you captained a Stanley cup winning team.” 

“Kat, Kat, Kat, Kat-no, no listen―Zimms texted me tonight. I have to win again and he’ll want to see me. Maybe he’ll love me again.” 

He's laying down now. When did he lay down? Someone is running their hands through his hair. It feels nice. He starts bursting out laughing.

“Rina, Rina.”

“Yes Kent?”

He reaches up and pulls her down so her face is level with his.

“I’m gay and I just won the Stanley Cup.” 

“Oh my GOD, Kent.”

He hears Dima laugh. “Parse, you have teammates.”

And that's how his night ends, in the back of cab, babbling nonsense about the shit life he leads. He's twenty years old and if he's peaked now, what else can he do? Jack would know. Jack always knows. 

**@KVP90: Hey @VegasAcesNHL I like this winning thing. Can we do it again?**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to stay-golden-aged.tumblr.com for reading this over and reminding how important grammar is. 
> 
> Come hang on tumblr- calmedbythestorm.tumblr.com


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